


Particles & Transgressions

by saphique



Series: Enliven [2]
Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Age Difference, Enliven, F/F, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 02:13:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7782874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphique/pseuds/saphique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once, Jillian Holtzmann helped Dr.Gorin out of an embarrassing situation. Afterwards, they deliberately put themselves into embarrassing situations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Particles & Transgressions

**Author's Note:**

> -Part 2 of the series Enliven, where our ladies are shown in different scenarios. This particular piece is an excuse for me to write about Sigourney Weaver. I hope I managed to capture Holtzmann's young, free-willing dyke spirit. Please excuse me for the lack of science/ghost descriptions. This is kind of a tribute to all the readers who had crushes on their female teachers. By the way, sometimes I use French words (such as chevelure in order to say hair on the head…I can't believe English doesn't have distinct words for hair on top of head and hair elsewhere on the body,…anyways). Enjoy !  
> \- Many warm thanks to my beta p, Bri at voltz-mann on tumblr. All remaining mistakes are mine.

Taking part of the initiation ritual of the first year is absolutely out of the question. What use is there to participate in uninteresting sets of homophobic, sexist subgroups of newbies? It only repeats the pattern of college into the walls of Universities, where there is no time nor place for light-headedness and stereotypes. Sure, Jillian Holtzman enjoys amusement, but her pleasure mostly takes roots elsewhere, such as sipping black coffee sitting on the banister on the early morning of the first day of classes, legs spread and feet dangling. From this thinking place, she relishes in observing the building's structure and its facade, imagining all sorts of experiments, examining heights, and calculating the number of windows. Her clothes consist of a greenish fake-leather raincoat, long black lace boots and bright purple overalls smudged with dried paint drips.

All things considered, Holtzmann nevertheless takes part in an old college pattern, which consists of falling for an older female professor, once more. In the middle of the passing crowd, the distinguished smell of an earth-like, perfumed pheromone that passes by her, transports Holtzmann's whole being. Her olfactory senses are impossible to ignore as the woman's odorous being nearly knocks her down the balustrade. Curious, but mainly distracted, Jillian decides to meddle in the crowd in order to lay eyes on the mysterious being her senses are aching to discover. 

This is when she notices the most elegant, poised, beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes upon. And it's risqué to say so, since Holtzmann has observed and had her fair share of women. This woman's professionalism and seriousness is flagrant, with her black and white garment and her gray lab-smock, the sharpness and blackness of her glasses, the piles of papers she carries closely to her chest with her right hand. Immensurable could be the right word to describe her silhouette, she is tall in a way that it is not just seductive but also impressive, intimidating, and it’s even more noticeable as her shadow augments, decreases, fades away, before reappearing, as she is walking down the hall under the bright silver lights. These lights dangling from the ceiling are revealing the true color of her hair roots as she walks under them. Her salt and pepper hair is covered with faded dark-brown and chestnut curls. Oh, how she would love to see this woman's visage. Holtzmann is captivated by how her chevelure is reassembled in hanks and waves with help of incalculable hair pins. The way her opened lab-smock waltzes through the breeze of the corridor reminds Jillian of curtains flicking in front of an opened window as it lets in an pleasant summer breeze. But what Jillian finds most endearing about that stranger are details that reveal how clumsy, peculiar and self-confident she seems to be, which creates an intriguing and charming portrait. These details are as simple as loosen laces on one of her boots, or the drops of black coffee that fall on the floor from the reusable coffee-cup she holds with her left hand, as she lets her gaze wander on the sheets she is holding with her right hand in front of her face. Reading the sheets while walking affects her walk, brings an unevenness to her gait. Sometimes, still walking, she looks straight in front of her, before looking back down at her notes again. Evidently, distracted by the reading, her legs slightly deflect, consequently she tends to lean on her right side and almost bumps into an open door. 

And also with an unfocused student, and even before Jillian can do something about it, the impact cannot be avoided. In a cloud of sheets and coffee drops, the professor collides into a confused man who grabs hold of the woman by her shoulders in a tentative hold to avoid tumbling. Quickly, the professor removes the man's hands in a grunted apology, shows an opened hand as if to say "I'm okay, move away" the moment he tries to bend down to help her pick up the dispersed papers. "Continue your route, please". The man flees away. Deplorably, elegance yields place for humility as the professor is curled down on the floor. Throughout the entire time, Jillian only sees the woman's back, but she still distinguishes that the professor's glasses are uneven on the tip of her nose. At this precise moment, overwhelmed, Jillian Holtzmann decides staring is enough. She ought to give a hand, so she circles the marvelous human being and sets down in front of her. 

And, just like that, too realistically, all of a sudden, they are face to face, at the same height (that woman's legs are so long, but cowered like this, she is unexpectedly approachable), crouched down to recuperate the scattered sheets and they lock eyes. Immediately, her heart implodes as she visually immerses herself into these perfectly shaped brown eyes, simultaneously severe and sensitive. Her irises’ brilliance and roundness are accentuated by the same bright lights that unveil the crows' feet and wrinkles on the side of her thin mouth. Intelligently, Holtzmann rapidly gazes at her name tag, it reads "Dr. Rebecca Gorin", but for the first time in her life, she cannot come up with a witty comment, a smart remark, or even a compliment. She is astonished and infatuated and the woman does not stop staring at her. Fortunately, Jillian manages to detach her gaze, she looks away and luckily her hands do not let her down as she picks up and gathers the papers that are closer to her. She hopes her motions do not reveal her love-sick state. Having collected all the dispersed papers, they both rise from the floor and then a vision Holtzmann was not prepared for hits her directly in the chest: Dr.Gorin's height and poise, right here in front of her. Back up on her feet, she is tall to the point where Holtzmann's gaze directly arrives to Dr.Gorin's collarbone. Intimidated by the scale of this majestic woman, Jillian does not have the strength to lock eyes again and simply stares at the notes, some covered by drops of coffee, where is reads " Gravitational waves: particles, transgressions and afterlife". 

Having the silhouette and grace of a mythological queen, the professor graciously opens her mouth and gently express her gratitude by saying a genuine "Thank you". Lost in space and time, Jillian hardly notices that Dr. Gorin is already walking away to the large auditorium at the end of the hallway. At this moment, emptiness and coldness hits her, as her own weight becomes harder to carry. That's when she notices, an USB drive that is not hers, alone on the floor, surrounded by coffee stains. Quickly, she picks it up and, without thinking twice, she follows Dr. Gorin's path. 

Arriving in front of the large metallic doors, she gets on the tip of her feet in order to look through the small window. She clearly notes the hundreds of students in the audience. A wooden tribune with a microphone and a laptop are centered on the raised platform, in front of an immense screen. Dr. Gorin, a little more hurried than she originally was, is walking down the aisle, and walks up the five stairs that lead to the microphone. She puts her notes down, discreetly wipes her coffee covered hand on the back of her gray lab-jacket before sticking her hands down her pockets and searching for, Jillian guessed, must be her USB drive. The audience gradually becomes impatient as murmurs are progressively louder. Dr. Gorin's clumsy sophistication switches for an uncomfortable state, almost nervous. When she turns her head to her side, looking at her path, hoping to see the drive laying on the carpeted room, Jillian pushes the door a little bit too loudly than she intended, but used that at her advantage to make a diversion. 

"Good morning, y'all. Dr. Gorin, I truly apologize for being late." She speaks more loudly than necessary, wanting to be sure that everybody in the room is persuaded that it isn't Dr,Gorin's fault is the conference is tardive. Confidently, overdoing all of her movements (in a clownish way to say 'please pay attention to me, this lovely creature here on stage isn't to blame'), she climbs up the stairs to join the professor at her podium and, arm extended, she hands her the USB drive before adding "Yup, everything's there. Sorry for being tardy." Dr.Gorin, mesmerised, just stares at her and takes the drive, not bothering at all when their fingers softly touch. Smiling, Holtzmann turns to face the audience and melodramatically bows down twice, and reverts back to the stairs on big strides. She takes place close to the emergency exit and stands still, back pressed against the wall, away from the spotlights. 

Dr. Rebecca Gorin begins her conference. Throughout her speech, her voice remains constant, far from being monotone, on the contrary. Steady, punctuated with a convincing intonation, a persuasive tonality, it’s almost impossible not to remain attached to each of her words. Truth and discovery unveils and Jillian barely notices that her own body remains solidly pressed against the wall. Usually, she is incapable of staying still, suffering from a deficit of attention, but now she clings to each of Dr. Gorin's words. It’s the way she expresses herself, how she gently walks from left to right. She minimally gesticulates in rhythm of her revelations. Before she realises it, the conference is over and Dr. Gorin receives appraisal in applause. Too quickly for Jillian's liking, the students gather their personal belongings and progressively empty the auditorium. 

In only a few minutes, the room has cleared, Dr. Gorin switches the screen off and stacks her papers. Overwhelmed by a positive sentiment, Holtzmann claps her hands together to applaud anew. Knowing she is standing in the aisle that leads to the main exit door, Jillian does not move and waits for Dr. Gorin, smiling and trying her best to look in full possession of self control. This is when she notices, when the professor descends the five small stairs and approaches, that she looks curiously pleased. 

"Don't applaud. I want to thank you again for earlier…", she frowns her eyebrows, as if she was looking for an information she could have forgotten at the back of her head, only to realise they haven't properly met.

"Jillian Holtzmann. Holtz," the student replies, holding out her hand firmly. To her surprise, they quickly share a confident handshake. Immediately, Holtzmann understands that Dr. Gorin rarely smiles, there only is a hint of amusement at the side of her thin pale lips. Professionalism is indeed in the root of her being. Jillian acknowledges her thanks by nodding. 

"But now, with the little scenario you came up with, everybody thinks that you work for me", Dr. Gorin comments before slowly looking up and down at her.

"That can be arranged. Let's show them that their assumption wasn't wrong. I'll work with you. For you…" Jillian finishes her sentence with a blush on her pale cheeks. A subtle indication on Dr. Gorin's expression implies doubt, therefore Jillian speedily enumerates potential answers to the hypothesis remained unanswered throughout her conference, in order to prove to her superior that her knowledge on the subject makes her a perfect candidate to assist her. As she speaks, she catches a shift of trust in Dr. Gorin's gaze, as if in only a few seconds, her verdict went from immediate refusal to probable approval. 

"…since the primordial nucleosynthesis only compels to the density of the particles, like you brilliantly described, the gap between the total mass deduced by gravitational effect and required mass can be resolved." Eagerness can be heard in Jillian's vivid voice, as if she lacked air.

"Also, Dr. Gorin, please see this as an attempt to convince you to accept my offer, not to confuse with bragging about my skills. Your subject of gravitational waves and particles transgressions is also my field of interest. I'd love to assist." Her fists are positively clenched with anticipation, her eyes shining with expectations. Still showing that little hint of amusement on the side of her lips, but dubious, Dr. Gorin nods. 

"In what year are you?", the professor's question is a subtle way of guessing how old the student is. 

"First, " she replies, before quickly adding, more softly, like a confession, "day". Which makes her about 22 years old. 

From her height, Dr. Rebecca Gorin stares down at Jillian, peers indiscreetly, as if she was using X-Ray vision to scrutinize her inner being. Still, it does not feel intrusive nor displaced, it feels reassuring in a curious way, as if a path was beginning to form between them. The professor takes a pen out of her chest-pocket and is looking for a blank piece of paper she can write on. In response, Jillian unfolds her sleeve and shows the bare skin of her inner arm. Conceding, her strong warm hand (oh, these long fingers!) takes Jillian's wrist to hold firmly the extended arm, and she scribbles (she is left-handed!) PK-1350. Jillian comprehends that Dr. Gorin, in her professional attire, is a willing and promising woman who does not live by protocols. 

"Come by my office at the end of the week. We'll discuss more at that time, meanwhile I suggest you to familiarise yourself with the faculties and laboratories", Dr. Gorin recommends, looking intensively at her new protégée.

"Consider it done," she replies with more enthusiasm than she’s ever manifested. The hint of amusement comes back at the side of the professor's lips. Dr. Gorin tilts her head in a symbol of respect, and exits the room, leaving Holtzmann alone with her victory dance. 


End file.
